eighth hearted...
i've either heard my uncle's leaving or his getting ready to depart. if i wasn't so familiar with the zealous happiness afforded to the mormon culture, he might come off as a bit stuck. but they're all stuck, them, stuck in happy mormon mode. gah, let it rain a bit, yeah? shine them streets up...
i've been up again whoring out on last.fm's similar artist radio feature. this morning brought to you by the fleet foxes. and rory allen phillips. and so on and so forth. unless there's actually a band called so on and so forth. they could be currently converging upon a garage somewhere, wondering where the fuck their drummer is...
twice in the last month me and my cousin have ridden our bikes (all the way out) to marina. i'm broke and lazy, but he buys pot and we get real stoned and ride our bikes back to monterey on the path late at night. he fights imaginary dragons and i worry. i smoked out of an apple for the first time last week. or the week before, with the two brothers, my cousins, on the beach. it was pretty. so pretty, next week i rolled us a joint and we went back a little before sundown, but this time we took my guitar with us, and this time it was even prettier. i played a lot of guitar, and i'd like to think some yoga lady and her dog stopped to enjoy it, but maybe she was tired, and felt like stretching right there. it was funny. i was rockin' out and watching my cousins wondering, did i used to act that way when i smoked? really? and the answer comes back a resounding yes. i have video documentation to remind me. lately i feel like i've been living solely through my cousin(s)...
i'm probably not gonna listen to these albums for the most part. taylor transported the geo back to sand city, and good riddance, but there were a few times i was stupid and drove it and listened to mexican radio stations, and i miss that. i like yeasayer now. and dr. dog...
anyway. my gramama came to southern california to take care of us as children while my mom checked herself into a month-long psychiatric retreat, and elisa started doing better in school. i thought i remembered living in corona. at least enough so that if my mom disappeared for a month i'd recall it. i just remember other stuff so well it seems like i would. but no...
without reason, and all throughout the night, i ate double fudge chocolate cake...
last year i played a song for grama on the piano, and in the sort of tone used when suffering fools she remarked, "there's music there." which is all i was really looking for...
i've been up again whoring out on last.fm's similar artist radio feature. this morning brought to you by the fleet foxes. and rory allen phillips. and so on and so forth. unless there's actually a band called so on and so forth. they could be currently converging upon a garage somewhere, wondering where the fuck their drummer is...
twice in the last month me and my cousin have ridden our bikes (all the way out) to marina. i'm broke and lazy, but he buys pot and we get real stoned and ride our bikes back to monterey on the path late at night. he fights imaginary dragons and i worry. i smoked out of an apple for the first time last week. or the week before, with the two brothers, my cousins, on the beach. it was pretty. so pretty, next week i rolled us a joint and we went back a little before sundown, but this time we took my guitar with us, and this time it was even prettier. i played a lot of guitar, and i'd like to think some yoga lady and her dog stopped to enjoy it, but maybe she was tired, and felt like stretching right there. it was funny. i was rockin' out and watching my cousins wondering, did i used to act that way when i smoked? really? and the answer comes back a resounding yes. i have video documentation to remind me. lately i feel like i've been living solely through my cousin(s)...
i'm probably not gonna listen to these albums for the most part. taylor transported the geo back to sand city, and good riddance, but there were a few times i was stupid and drove it and listened to mexican radio stations, and i miss that. i like yeasayer now. and dr. dog...
anyway. my gramama came to southern california to take care of us as children while my mom checked herself into a month-long psychiatric retreat, and elisa started doing better in school. i thought i remembered living in corona. at least enough so that if my mom disappeared for a month i'd recall it. i just remember other stuff so well it seems like i would. but no...
without reason, and all throughout the night, i ate double fudge chocolate cake...
last year i played a song for grama on the piano, and in the sort of tone used when suffering fools she remarked, "there's music there." which is all i was really looking for...